


The entire [fucking] storybook

by nerily



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A lot - Freeform, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Georgi's makeup artist POV, Irony, Mila is the Best, Two Anya this is important, Welcome to the Madness (Yuri!!! on Ice)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 15:37:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10722228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerily/pseuds/nerily
Summary: Anya was still perplexed, she wasn’t sure Georgi was completely sane, and she sure didn’t want to work with a crazy man asking for an unrealistic and impossible idea of emotions, he sounded a little -a lot- as a fanatic. Anya was a good make-up artist, a little whimsical maybe, but she was not a new Kandinskij, she wasn’t so philosophical. She could leave, saying that it wasn’t the job she was searching for, and never see this crazy man again.But there was something, a promise of possibility, if Georgi was a good-crazy, and not a crazy-crazy, this could have been the job of her life.Short story of  Georgi's makeup artist (Guest star: Welcome to the Madness)





	The entire [fucking] storybook

A job interview was always a dark horse for Anya, the clients mostly contacted her because they have seen the artworks online and they were interested in her style, but she never knew anything about the ones who offered the jobs. Being a makeup artist had put her in contact with a lot of strange people: some didn’t offer a real pay, just “visibility” - _no thank you, I can’t pay my bills with that-,_ others run away after having seen her short, black and deep purple mohawk - _c’mon you have seen my works, who did you expect, Snow White?_ But usually they were normal people, actresses and actors, photographers, models, sometimes people who wanted a crazy look for a party.

So when she entered the cafeteria where the appointment was, she was ready for everything. A man sitting alone at a table near the window stood up and come to her. _So this is Georgi Popovich, quite handsome, but I thought that hairstyle died with Elvis._ Georgi was good looking, except for the unconstitutional cut, and gave the impression of being the villain of a spy-movie, his face was clean and he had beautiful blue eyes. He was clearly some kind of athlete, muscular and well built. _I like him, there is something I can work on._

“Are you Anya Soboleva?” he asked shaking her hand.

“Yes, so I suppose you’re George Popovich.”

The other nodded “I am. You know my fiancée’s name is Anya too, this is clearly a sign of destiny.” _Ook, not crazy at all. And I don’t what to do with this information, but still_.

“That’s cool, I guess. Shall we sit so we can have a little chat?” she proposed sitting at the table. The waitress came immediately to take their orders.

“So, Georgi, what do you do? Are you a dancer? You look like a dancer.” Anya asked sipping her coffee, Georgi shook his head “No, I’m a competitive figure skater.”

Anya was impressed, she’d never worked with skaters before. “Cool, so you need a makeup artist for the exhibitions I suppose, what level?”

“I’m in the National team.”

 _Interesting._ Anya was quite known in her field thanks to her style, but she was young and this could be an amazing job to have in her curriculum. But, Georgi had not finished talking. “I found your works on the internet and they are amazing, the colours, the drama, the emotions in them are breathtaking. You are like a painter who captures people’s souls to show them to the world, each work is the last masterpiece of a dying pianist who wants to transmute himself into his music. The passion, the emotion, I want that.”

 _Oh my God, this is for sure the craziest person I have ever met, I should run now. Either that, or he is a genius. Maybe both._ But one thing was clear, this could be something. Bad or good, but definitely something.

“Yes, I get the concept, you liked it. Do you want me for a particular performance or-”

“No- he interrupted her- I want you to work with me for every competition, now that I saw it I can’t perform knowing what could have been.”

 _Is he even for real?_ Anya wasn’t sure yet if Popovich was serious or he was just making fun of her. _No one talks this way except for theatre characters._ But there was something in Georgi that made clear that he really meant what he had said, every single word.

This was ridiculous and overwhelming, and it was perfect. Anya’s art was all about drama and passion and  it was clear that that was what Georgi was. Maybe in an hour he would kill her with a fork, but he was surely something else.

“Ok, so it is a stable job. What do you have in mind? Do you want me to look at your choreographies and costumes and to create the make-up, or you have ideas I have to work on?” _I think I know the answer, but still._

Georgi gesticulated and talked theatrically. _He does this on purpose, it can’t be otherwise_ “I will tell you everything through the skating, if the emotions are true enough you will understand and translate them in colours. It will be a true show of the soul.” He said disturbingly serious.

Anya was still perplexed, she wasn’t sure Georgi was completely sane, and she sure didn’t want to work with a crazy man asking for an unrealistic and impossible idea of emotions, he sounded a little - _a lot-_ like a fanatic. Anya was a good make-up artist, a little whimsical maybe, but she was not a new Kandinskij, she wasn’t so philosophical. She could leave, saying that it wasn’t the job she was searching for, and never see this crazy man again.

But there was something, a promise of possibility, if Georgi was a good-crazy, and not a crazy-crazy, this could have been the job of her life. The passion, the analysis of her works was maybe a little extravagant in the exposition, but it was profound and meaningful.

_I will regret this I’m sure, but maybe they will find us before he kills me._

Anya couldn’t believe what she was saying. “Ok, I’m in.” The exaggerated smile Georgi gave her could be the proof of her good choice, or of her end.

 

* * *

 

Anya couldn’t remember the exact moment she became Georgi Popovich confessor. Probably it happened during one of their monthly sushi-dinner-appointment or over one endless, bizarre, improbable text conversation.

The only thing Anya could tell was that somehow, during the three years of collaboration, she and Georgi became friends.

Thank God Georgi was not a Crazy-crazy guy, just a drama-crazy guy, he was clearly a South American telenovelas character come to life, no one could convince her otherwise. But hanging out in Georgi’s ice rink she came to the conclusion that to be an ice skater you had to be crazy somehow.

The best example was the incredible talented and insanely awesome Victor Nikiforov. Even Anya, who knew nothing about ice skating, could understand that his programs were amazing, but he was _clearly_ a prima donna. Yes, Nikiforov was “really really really ridiculously good looking” and was a monster on the ice, but he was the kind of crazy man that woke you up at 3 AM because he needed to move the furniture in his house to have the best inspiration.

_So, no thanks, at least Georgi lets me sleep._

Then there was this fifteen years old redhead, Mila Babicheva, who moved like she owned everything and had that I-am-the-queen-AND-the-king-here-baby-you-will-understand-it-soon attitude that was quite disturbing.

Yes, crazy place for crazy people. Working with Georgi had been easier than she thought, he had never questioned her choices and the results were always amazing and unforgettable. Plus, Georgi was the perfect muse, maybe his performances weren’t always flawless, but surely, they were full of feelings and pathos, and that was all Anya needed.

But, Georgi Popovich had a serious problem. “We went to the summer palace this weekend, the gardens were gorgeous, we could feel our love fusing with the remaining passions from century ago. For a moment, we were the imperator and the empress of Russia. And Anya, oh Anya was like a goddess walking through the fountains. She is-“

“Now, close your mouth please.” Anya. Anya was THE big problem. She didn’t really like Georgi’s fiancée. She had met her namesake just three or four times, and that was enough.  She was beautiful, of course she didn’t have a chance against her, but she looked like she was one of the most spoilt person in the world, and Georgi didn’t help. Anya had immediately understood the type, she was one of those girls who always got what they wanted, fickle and standoffish. Georgi clearly loved her, worshipped her and it seemed that the feeling was mutual, but, from Anya’s point of view, something wasn’t right. Maybe it was just a feeling.

Nevertheless, Georgi always, ALWAYS, spoke about her. And Anya had had enough.

They spent 5 minutes in silence and then Georgi spoke again. “Are you going to use lipstick?”

“Maybe after, not right now.” She was working with eyeshadows right now, and she was thinking about using bodypainting in some areas of the face in order to give him a stronger appearance. Georgi’s theme was “Sturm und Drang”. _Of course. But the real question is: why didn’t he use it before?_ Georgi’s themes were always intense, dramatic, and full of every possible feeling. If anybody asked Anya if Georgi was more about pathos and drama or more about romance and delicacy the only possible answer was _yes_. And that was everything Anya could ask for.

“And why do you tell me to close my mouth then?” Georgi was clearly confused.

“Because I couldn’t physically hear another word about Anya anymore. And you can’t be stopped when you start singing her praises.” Anya said biting her lip, trying to concentrate on the make-up.

“It almost sounds like you don’t like her.” Georgi was clearly disappointed and slightly offended.

“That’s because I actually don’t, and you know it.”

“Why?”

O _h. My. God. I can’t deal with this right now. Again._

Anya took a step back, pointing her brush in Georgi’s face. “Listen, we’ve already had this conversation. I tell you how it will go, again, for the eleventh time. I will explain to you why I don’t like her. You will defend her. I will reply. You won’t listen to me and you will keep going, telling me how beautiful and gracious and perfect she is. But, this time, I will kill myself _or_ yell at you to shut up. So please, please, for the sake of keeping the peace, this conversation never happened, ok?”

Georgi kept quiet for ten seconds and then said “Ok, you are right. Furthermore, if I keep talking about it, our immense love will deflect attention from the true colours of my exhibition.”

_And my intense-drama-Georgi is back. Thank God._

_I can’t believe I just thought that._

 

* * *

 

 

After six years of working with Georgi, Anya could say with absolute certainty that her favourite parts of the job were surely the competitions. The atmosphere was stimulating even if she didn’t have to compete, they were athletes on the top of the world competing versus each other, it was a pretty unique environment. She was, of course, happy for Georgi, who was always excited ( _obviously)_ and for him every competition was a matter of life and death. By the way her presence wasn’t essential all the time so she could go sightseeing a little. This time they were at the Trophee de France, so Paris, _oui_!

But she wasn’t as happy as she could have been, because Georgi was dull. He lacked his usual insane motivation, it was like somebody had unplugged him. And Anya knew who did it.

At the beginning of the season Anya, the other Anya, had dumped him.

It had not been nice.

It happened when Yakov was dealing with Nikiforov and Yuri- _enfant-prodige-_ Plitsesky’s escape to Japan. Anya had not heard a word from Georgi for two days, it had happened before, when Georgi had particularly exhausting training sessions sometimes he was so tired that he wouldn’t text her for days. So Anya wouldn’t have been worried if Mila hadn’t texted her saying that Georgi had not showed up at the rink for two days. That was unusual for him.

When she had arrived at Georgi’s home to check if he was still alive, she had found him in terrible conditions. He had been lying still on the bed and he looked terrible. He had dark circle and red eyes like he hadn’t slept in weeks, his shirt had seen better days, his face was emotionless. He had been inconsolable and desperate for weeks. Anya barely managed to get him to the ice rink for training and preparing his programs.

With time he started recovering and he returned the insanely dramatical Georgi she always knew. But sometimes he started thinking about Anya and everything returned like the first days.

Since the Cup of China everything had been worse. Anya’s presence didn’t help his performances nor his state of mind.

But.

But, that was enough.

Anya, the not-so-asshole one, had had enough.

She couldn’t bear Georgi’s bad mood anymore, she couldn’t physically bear another speech about how much Anya was perfect for him, how much he still loved her, how miserable he was without her and how he was going to get her back eventually.

And, worst of all, she wouldn’t have survived another makeup ruined by tears during a program.

So when Georgi started telling her that Anya was surely watching his performance at home and that this was the right time, she suddenly stopped applying the eyeshadow and took a step back.

“That’s enough, Georgi.”  She wasn’t shouting, but her voice was firm and severe. That was enough to get Georgi’s attention.

“She won’t come back, she cheated on you, she dumped you and she made it clear that she couldn’t care less about you.” Georgi shut up, watching her with blank face.

_Maybe I’m  a little rough, but I know him, he won’t understand otherwise._

“I know you loved her. I know that you, only God knows why,  still love her. But you have to move on. This insane hope that she will be back makes you incapable of looking at the future. _Your future._ You have a competition to think about, you have a carrier. God, Georgi you have to think about yourself! Your life won’t stop because she’s not with you.”

Georgi tried to talk. “But she is…”

Anya didn’t let him finish, knowing too well what he was going to say. “She is nothing, she is nothing for you as you are nothing for her. If I have to tell the truth, even if one day she were to come back, you should refuse her. Because she is an asshole. I always knew, but she made it clear for anyone. It’s okay to not love somebody anymore, but you can break up with somebody while remaining a decent person. She didn’t. She didn’t care about you, about your feelings.  She is a bitch.”

Then Anya softened her tone watching Georgi with something that could resemble a sweet expression, because Georgi needed to hear the truth, but he also needed a friend. “You didn’t deserve how she treated you. And she doesn’t deserve how you’are treating her.”

_Oh my God, I’m softening. I’m going to regret this, I know._

Then she resume to apply the makeup. Georgi didn’t say a word, and that was unusual. Each time Anya had criticised her namesake he had always replied right away. She finished her job. The makeup was obviously perfect, she was a professionist. But Georgi was still silent, and he had a competition soon, so Anya decided to take the edge off.

“Listen, I know I’ve been hard. That was what I think, but in the end you should do what you feel. As always. But one thing I can promise. So keep your ears open. If you ruin my makeup ever again I will kill you first, then Anya and I’ll use your blood as a lipstick for Mila, who, I’m sure, will appreciate the idea. Is that clear?” That sounded as a serious treat, and, somehow it was.

Georgi just smiled and stood up. He had to go to Yakov and warm up for the short program. He was behind her when he said “Thank you.”

_Theatrical as always, he is hopeless._

She turned “Go _Carabosse_ , let’s see what you can do.”

Georgi smiled and they soon started laughing.

 

* * *

 

 

_Somebody here clearly  has a death wish._

Because no one in their right mind would ever wake her up at 6.30 AM. She was in her bedroom in Barcelona. She had come to Grand Prix Final to help Mila. Her friendship with Mila started when the other was 16 years old, during a date with Anya, Georgi, Victor and other people from the rink skate. Mila had more vodka that she was supposed to (which was none) and ended up drunk, she spent the night and the morning at Anya’s house to escape her mother and Yakov’s rage.

_The beginning of a beautiful friendship._

But of course the one who was knocking at her door wasn't Mila. Anya got up from the bed in pajama pants and in her Megadeth T-shirt. The knocking didn’t stop. “For God’s sake, stop!” She said walking to open the door. She hadn’t expected who was standing in front of her.

“Plisetsky, I swear you that if the hotel is not going on fire or something like that I will make you regret your decision to come to Barcelona.” Her relationship with Plisetsky was simple: it didn't exist. She talked with the boy once or twice, the age gap was too big and their personalities didn't help form a deeper connection. So she couldn't find a logical reason for Plisetsky’s presence at her door.

“I need you.” he said like it was the most natural thing in the world, like it was obvious that Anya would have been ready to make his wishes true.

“It’s 6 in the morning, we barely ever talk, and your attitude gets on my nerves. Give me one reason you should come to me.” Anya knew that Yuri had won golden at the Grand Prix, but, honestly, she couldn't care less in that moment. She was sleeping. There was no clemency, world champion or not.

Yuri entered in the room ignoring her protests.

“What part of ‘go away’ don’t you understand? Are you deaf?” It was clear that Plisetsky wasn’t listening to her.

  _I’m going to kill this little brat, I swear._

“I have changed my Gala exhibition and I need you to do my make up.”

Even after six years of work with Georgi, Anya didn’t understand anything about ice skate. She couldn’t even recognise jumps. _Recognise jumps from the takeoff. I don’t have this superpower, but I’m working on it._ She was ignorant, but she knew that a program needs a lot of time to be created.

“You know the Gala is tonight, right?” She was still sleepy and dazed, maybe she hadn’t understood well.

Plisetsky looked at her as he was losing time with her. “Yes, I’m aware. That's why I am here at this hour.”

_Well, it seems I won't get rid of him so soon._

“Well, brat you woke me up at this insane hour, demanding my help. At least tell me what you want.”

Yuri looked smugly at her. “I need you to do my makeup tonight. This is the music.”

He took his phone and played a heavy metal music.

_Oh. My. God. Actually good music._

“Sit.”  Anya didn't like the idea of letting Plisetsky win, but _that_ was good music. And it was rare to hear good music at the ice rink. _Of course,_ there was a lot of classical music, but really good music? Rare commodity.

She had to put makeup on Plisetsky. It was a personal matter.

“What will you wear? What’s the colour palette?” She asked looking at Yuri’s face, she had some ideas, of course the little brat didn’t have a say in the matter.

“Purple and black, I suppose. A friend is bringing me my stuff.”

_Purple and black. I like it._

“You have friends, little brat?” She wanted to work on him, but she wanted to take revenge for the ungodly hour.

“Shut up.” It was obvious that Yuri was faking a nonchalance that he didn’t have.

_Ok, ok, sensitive topic. I’ll cut it out._

“Ok, I like the music, the colour fits. I can work on it. Let’s wait for your ‘friend’.” Yuri made an annoyed face. Then somebody knocked gently at the door.

“It’s him.”

“Yes, I could have guessed. Thank you.”

She wasn’t ready. The young man at the door was a beauty. Dark skin, black eyes and hair in a beautiful undercut.

_I want one too. Next Christmas, please?_

To keep staring at a teenager while drooling didn’t seem like the best idea, so she let him in.

“I’m sorry about the time, I’m Otabek Altin, from Kazakhstan,” he said shaking her hand.

_He is a gentleman too._

“Little brat, you should learn some manners from him.” She clearly heard Yuri snorting behind her.

Watching Otabek for the rest of the day was a nice idea, but she really wanted to create Yuri’s look.

“Let’s see the outfit.” She said moving to a chair.

The main colours were purple and black, it was aggressive and it seemed to show a lot of skin.

_I didn’t expect this. But I like it._

“Yakov and Lila don’t know about this, do they?”

Yuri shrugged.

_Of course they don’t know. Well, not my problem. And I don’t think Yuri needs their approval._

She opened her bag taking what she needed for the make up. “I wasn’t ready for this, I have to make do with what I have here. But it will come out great. Stay still. It’s an order.” Plisetsky was clearly annoyed, but that was Anya’s purpose.

The room was incredibly silent and Anya wasn’t used to it. Georgi kept long theatrical monologues and with Mila there was always some new gossip to talk about. Yuri’s silence was a bless to the world, but Otabek didn’t seem a talkative person.

_He is gorgeous, but I think he is a little too young for me._

_“_ So, Otabek, how old are you?” She could always try.

“I’m eighteen years old, ma’am.”

_Ma’am, Ma’am?! I’m not that old._

“Please don’t, I’m not an old lady. Call me Anya. I suppose there isn’t a grown up version of you somewhere, is there?” Otabek blushed, but he seemed confused as if he was wondering if he had understood well.

“You perv, shut up grandma.” Plisetsky looked really angry and bothered by Anya’s comment. More than she had expected.

“What? I’m a woman, I have my needs.” She said just to annoy even more the brat. Plisetsky was moving on his chair, he clearly wanted to punch her. In the face. But Anya noticed that it wasn’t just bother or embarrassment for her attitude, it was something more.

_Oh my God, is he jealous?!_

Little, feminine, but with a terrible temper, Yuri- _Russian-fairy_ -Plisetsky was jealous of the dangerous looking, awesome, but polite Otabek Altin.

_I can’t believe this. I’m giggling. What is this, some kind of shitty young adult romance?_

_I love it._

She noted that Otabek looked really uncomfortable, maybe she exaggerated a little “I was joking of course. Sorry Otabek, I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. Just the little brat. ” Otabek relaxed beyond her and Plisetsky started to complain, but she had finished the makeup.

“Done, look. Do you like it? I like it, so you don’t have a say, but still.” It was an exaggerated purple smoky-eye, for Georgi it would have been quite sober, but for Yuri? It was perfect.

She handed Plisetsky the mirror, he tried to hide a surprise look, but he did a shitty job at it.

“Yes, I know. You’re welcome. But it won’t last all day, so you will come to me right before the exhibition, okay?” Yuri kept looking at the mirror and nodded.

“You look good Yura, it will be perfect with the song and the program.” It was Otabek, who came nearer to look better at Plisetsky. This one wasn’t blushing. At all.

_You’re welcome little brat. You’re welcome._

They thanked her, well, Otabek did, and left the room. When Yuri was going to go through the door she called him “Brat!” The other turned to watch her.

“What do you want?”

“Marvelous choice. He’s good for you.” she said giving him a thumb-up. Yuri blushed, again, and slammed the door.

_I want to see this._

 

* * *

 

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 01.34: U like him

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 01.37: ?

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 01.37: We were together 10 min ago. Why text me?

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 01.39: You likeeeee him

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 01.40: Are you drunk? What are talking about?

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 01.41: Georgi

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 01.41: Georgi what? Babe what’s your problem?

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 01.43: You’re sooooo dense. U like Georgi. A lot

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 01.44: WHAT?! Babe go home.

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 01.44: I’m home. And U are dense. U like Georgi. Every time he talks about one of his dates you make a face.

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 01.47:  A face? You’re crazy.

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 01.47: Like you want to kill smb. So I’m not crazy, and U are in love. With Georgi. LOL

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 01.50: Babe, he’s dating other ppl. He’s not interested

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 01.50: That’s not an answer.

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 01.53:  There isn't a question.

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 01.53: You are right. Btw. U like Georgi.

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 01.55: Mila. That's enough. I don't like Georgi and Georgi doesn't like me. That's all you need to know.

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 01.57: Yeah… Suuuuuure.

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 02.10: An?

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 02.17: Ok, Ok. You don't like Georgi. You hate Georgi. Gotcha

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 02.25: Pls forgive me. Pls. I owe you my soul.

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 02.30: Ok, I know how to win this. I have pictures of Yuri and Otabek. They were on a date and Victor saw them and took some shots. I can share if you forgive me.

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 02.33: Photos first. If they are valuable I will think about it.

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 02.34: _Picture sent_

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 02.34: I forgive you.

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 02.34: Give me everything you have.

 

* * *

 

 

_I’m drunk._

Well, she wasn't really drunk, she was at the perfect point, where everything was funny, she couldn’t walk straight, but she wouldn’t be sick and she could understand what was happening.

_I earned it. I need to celebrate._

In two days she would leave for New York Fashion Week. She was going to collaborate with a stylist. Translated:  runways, photosets and chances to make new, famous contacts.

_This is my big springboard._

The night’s place of destination was a pub in Saint Petersburg. It has been a nice night friends, laughters, alcohol and fun. It had been perfect.

It was three o’clock in the morning and the pub was almost empty, the survivors of her group were her and Georgi. The dear friend was now talking about his theme for the next, maybe his last, season: serendipity. Anya was satisfied by his choice because she could play with colours she usually didn’t use for Georgi. She was happy even because her friend, the theatrical, dramatical, overexcited one, was finally back.

Anya’s memory was now lost in the past. Georgi had moved on.

She looked at his new-old friend with fondness, she just wanted him to be finally happy, but in the back of her mind was this nasty feeling that came out every now and then when she talked to him. It was more persistent when Georgi talked about one of his dates.

_I’m not jealous. At all._

_This is not jealousy._

_No._

_Well…_

_Yes. It is._

_But Mila can’t know. Ever._

She liked Georgi. A lot. She had realized that three months after his break-up with Anya, during one of their Netflix night when Georgi fell asleep in a ridiculous position on her couch, snoring.  She had spent four minutes watching him with a stupid smile on her face.  She had to admit the obvious, she wanted Georgi to be more than a friend.

She didn’t know why. He was ridiculously theatrical, with a tendency to self-pity,  sometimes he acted like a crazy creepy man, he cried a lot, he clearly didn’t know when shut up, he had insane passions and he always considered amazing things that weren’t.

_But he is perfect._

It was for this reasons that Anya couldn't get him out of her head. But she had done nothing, Georgi had dates, with his ex-girlfriend finally out of the picture, and he met some nice girls. Anya, of course, knew all of them, since Georgi always made her a report of his last date. It wasn’t easy, but she wanted to be his friend, she really cared about him. Sometimes she felt like an idiot to not simply ask him out, but Georgi was a enthusiastic and transparent person, he would have already asked her out if he liked her more than a friend.

“So Georgi, how was your last date? What was her name?” she asked with a default smile.

_Why? I hate myself so much right now._

Georgi smiled back, they were sitting at a table, their drinks finished long time ago, Anya had decided to not have another, because she wanted to return home by herself so she had to stay aware.

“Klara. We had fun, we went to the movie theater.”

_That’s all? No declamation of true love? Just “we had fun”?_

But clearly Georgi had nothing more to say. “Just fun? Will it be another date?”

_What’s my problem?!_

Georgi looked away thoughtful. “I don’t think so. I mean, she is intelligent and funny and we had a nice date, but… I don’t know...”

“She is not the one, is she?” Anya said finishing his sentence.

He smiled again “Yes. She is not… they are not the one.” He looked again at her. “They are not Anya.”

_Wait, what?_

She couldn’t deal with that right now, again. She had spent days, weeks, months helping Georgi forget his horrible ex-girlfriend. And now everything had started all other again. She didn’t have the strength or the will. Then she decided to take another path. An idiotic path.

“Maybe you should try with another Anya.”

_Oh My God. Did I really say that?_

She wanted to punch herself in the face. It was something Georgi would say, not her. Then Georgi slightly laughed with that stupid fond smile of him.

“I tried, for a long time. It’s not the same thing.”

_Oh._

_OH!_

She never tried, she gave up even before she started. But tonight was different, maybe it was because of the drinks that gave her courage, maybe it was that Georgi never had more than two dates with the same girl, maybe it was this last, cheesy, sentence, maybe it was that during their conversation they moved closer.

Anya decided to ignore the voice in her head that was saying to stop.

She kissed him.

For a long, infinite instant everything kept still, everything was silent. It was a pure moment of fear and excitement.

Then Georgi kissed her back and everything fell into place.

It was like breathing while drowning. It was strange, she could feel Georgi’s lips on hers, his hand touching her cheek, his hair between her fingers. It was perfect.

That was how it was meant to be.

That feeling of completeness, that fire in her chest.

_Finally._

Then Georgi stopped and moved away. “Anya, I think…” She already missed his lips, his taste, and that was ridiculous, it was something Georgi would think, not her. So she decided to stop thinking. It was so good, she had waited for so long. It couldn’t end like that, it was too early.

“Don’t, don’t speak, don’t think, just don’t stop.” She said kissing him again.

He kissed her back and this time he didn’t stop.

 

* * *

 

 

_Who left the curtains open?_

The light had woken Anya up, and she didn’t like to be woken up. She was ready to meditate her revenge when the memories of the previous night struck her violently.

_Georgi… I can’t believe it._

After the long, breathless kiss in the pub they had called a taxi and had gone to Anya’s house. Georgi did as Anya had asked, he didn’t stop, he didn’t talk, he just thought of her.

It had been amazing. Anya couldn’t believe it, it had been the craziest night of her life. Her best friend Georgi, the crazy, tender, passionate Georgi liked her back.

_It’s like a dream._

_Oh. My. God. Did I just think this? Georgi is a bad influence._

_Wait, where is he?_

Georgi was nowhere to be found. Her house had three rooms, he was clearly not in the bedroom and no sound came from the bathroom and living room. She stood up to check if he was in the house. Of course he wasn’t. He had spent the night with her, she was sure, his side of the bed was still warm. He even had time to open the curtains even if he knew that Anya hated to wake up too early.

While she was wondering how to punish Georgi she saw something on her fridge. Usually her fridge had nothing on it, she was not some proud mum that wanted to show the drawings of her children. But now a yellow post-it towered on the white surface. Where did Georgi even find a post-it in her house? She moved to read it.

_“I’m sorry”_

_I’m sorry? For what? For leaving so early? For last night?_

Only Georgi could leave the vaguest message in the world and disappear after the most crazy, beautiful night. Anya’s concern came back in no time. She really liked Georgi, last night had been too good to be real, she was finally happy. And Georgi decided to leave her in that horrible way, without an explanation. Or he just had to go to practice. One thing was sure, Anya was alone with her paranoia and worries.

_I’m going to kill him._

 

* * *

 

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 11.30: What have you done to Georgi?

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 11.30: Oh, so he is somewhere. I thought he was dead

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 11.31: ?

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 11.32: He doesn’t answer my messages, I’m going to kill him

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 11.33: What happened yesterday? He looks like he killed somebody. When Yuuri asked, he said he had done something terrible. Have you two robbed a nanny? Please I can’t live if you are in jail. T.T

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 11.34: It was that terrible?

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 11.35: What?! Speak woman!

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 11.35: Wait

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 11.35: Wooo

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 11.35: You 2 banged. Right? pls tell me yes

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 11.36: Yes.

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 11.37: Oh my god, OH MY GOD. I knew it. “No Mila, I don’t like him, he’s just a friend” Bullshit! I knew it!

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 11.37: I’m so fucking happy.

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 11.38 **:** I was happy too...

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 11.38: Wait, what happened?

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 11.39: I don’t know. He just left leaving a stupid note.

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 11.39: “I’m sorry”. Who fucking dumps somebody with “I’m sorry”. I want to punch him.

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 11.40: It doesn’t sound like Georgi… Well, I mean, it sounds a lot like Georgi, but he would never dump somebody with a note. There has to be more than this.

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 11.41: I don’t know. I’m so angry. And depressed. He doesn’t answer my texts, my calls. My God Mila I screwed up, didn’t I? He is my best friend, I can survive if he says he doesn’t like me in that way, but I need him in my life.

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 11.42: I can’t believe I just said something like that. I don’t like this depressed-Anya.

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 11.43: You sound a lot like Georgi.

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 11.43: I will ignore the bestfriend part (You traitor). Listen, you two had sex and you still need two consenting people for that. He likes you for sure. Who knows what’s happening in that stupid dramatical head of his.

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 11.44: I’m going to do some research.

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 11.45: No Mila, stop. It’s not a good idea.

 **[Mila Babicheva]** 11.46: You’ll thank me later.

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 11.46: No Mila

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 11.50: Mila!

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 12.00: Fuck.

 **[Anya Soboleva]** 12.10: I hate you.

 

* * *

 

 

Anya wanted to kill herself, well, obviously not for real, but she was really depressed. With Georgi not answering her calls and the texts Mila had sent her, her hopes were dying. It was clearly not an “I’m sorry” for leaving early, it was an “I’m sorry” that meant “I did a mistake.”

She couldn’t believe she screwed up 7 years of friendship in one single night. A beautiful night, but that wasn’t worth her best friend. She wanted to go back in time and stop herself from kissing Georgi. She was miserable, and she needed ice-cream.

She was even angry at Georgi, he clearly kissed her back. He could refuse her, she would have survived the experience. But, no, he had to kiss her back and have sex with her and hug her and tell her nice things and give her hope.

_I hate him, I really do… But I miss him, I just want him back._

She was laying on the sofa, her luggages in front of the door ready for Fashion Week. That was probably the most important week of her life, and all she wanted to do was stare at the ceiling, cry and eat sweets.

_What a shitty week. I’m an idiot, I really am._

Somebody knocked at the door, Anya thought about pretending not be at home, but then she decided to act like a functional adult.

When she opened the door she didn’t expect to find Georgi looking at her with a sad face.

“Georgi.” She just said, paralyzed by the surprise. She was clearly hallucinating.

But then Georgi talked. “Anya, I need to talk to you.”

She made a sign for him to enter “Sure.” All that anger she had felt a minute before had disappeared, now there was only relief to see Georgi again. She didn’t like that, Georgi had dumped her in an horrible way. She needed to find that anger again.

Georgi had sat on the sofa and started talking. “Anya, listen, I’m so sorry.”

 _Again?_ Anya had enough of that sentence, she had spent the entire evening reading that post-it again and again. “You should be, you left me and ignored me for the whole day. I really want to kick your ass. So you better be convincing.”

Georgi looked mortified. “I know, you’re right. But I feel so guilty, I can’t even look at you. I have done something terrible. Mila told me that you were at home shaken and crying. I know you won’t ever forgive me, I won’t ever forgive myself, but if there is something I could do, anything, if you want to go to the poli-”

_What? Is he crazy?_

“Georgi, what the fuck are you talking about? You didn’t kill anyone, you just dumped me!” Anya almost shouted. Georgi was clearly delirious, he really looked like he had killed someone. He was shaking and she knew he was going to cry. She was angry with him, but Georgi’s reaction was exaggerated.

“Last night, you were drunk and I took advantage of you. This morning I ran away because I was disgusted by myself, I knew I should have stayed, but I coul-”

“Wait.” Anya interrupted him another time. “Are you saying that this morning you left because you were feeling guilty?” she was astounded and incredulous.

Georgi was now crying and he was still not looking at her. “Yes, I know I shoul-”

For the last time Anya interrupted Georgi, jumping on him. She had taken one of the pillows and was now hitting him with all her strength. “You- Georgi- Popovich-are-an-idiot.” She was laughing and crying out of relief. It was the best feeling of her entire life.

When she stopped she was exhausted, Georgi was under her, looking incredulous and confused. He was perfect and she kissed him, again, still laughing. Georgi immediately moved away. “Anya, I don’t understand, what are you doing?” He was still shocked and had red eyes because of crying.

“You are the biggest idiot. I wasn’t drunk. Yes, I had one drink or two, but I was conscious. I can’t believe you gave me the shittiest day because of this!” Anya was now smiling so much it hurt, knowing that Georgi didn’t hate her.

“You were not drunk? Then why did you kiss me? Why did you bring me home?”

“Because, you idiot, I like you, and I’ve been wanting to those all those things for a long time. Because you are an idiot, you are overly dramatic, you don’t know when to shut up, you always think about the strangest and craziest things, you left me alone after the perfect night. But my God I like you so much I could die.”

Georgi looked at her with wide eyes, he was clearly surprised by her words. It was quite a vision, Georgi under her, with puffy red eyes and mouth agape. “Really?”

Anya looked at him with tenderness, because Georgi always brought out the best in her. “Yes, for real.” She came near and tried again. She kissed him, Georgi took some second to kiss her back, but at the end he did.

They stayed on the sofa hugging and laughing like idiots.

This time when Anya woke up Georgi was still next to her.

 

* * *

 

Her taxi had arrived and Georgi helped her with the luggage, she still had to leave for New York, even if she would love to spent more time with him.

“You’ll be back in a week?” Georgi asked her, with that fond smile he had since the previous night.

“Yes, you will wait for me, right?” Anya really wanted to leave for New York, it could be the turning point of her job, but leaving Georgi so early hurt a little.

“Of course, I will count every minute.” And Anya knew that Georgi really meant that.

“Ugh, please, not so much sugar. I’m not sure I can survive the ‘enamoured Georgi’ all over again.”

Georgi laughed. “You can’t change who I am!”

“We will see that. Actually from you I expected  at least the cliche run-through-the-airport scene, you really disappointed me this time.”

Georgi hugged her, the taxi driver clearly wanted to leave, it was time for the last goodbye. “I’ll see what I can do.” They kissed for the last time.

 

* * *

 

Anya had never believed in prince charming, she thought it was quite stupid ever since she was a child.  She always hated all those fairy tales where the princess waited for the perfect man to save her.

When, after fashion week, she landed at the airport she almost squirmed with embarrassment when she saw Georgi hiding behind an enormous  bouquet of roses.

She was sure, Georgi wasn’t prince charming, he was the entire fucking storybook.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of a story about Georgi's makeup artist has always been in my mind, but that was, just an headcanon. Then Welcome to the Madness happened and Anya properly came to life.
> 
> I want to thank Aftgonice, without her this thing wouldn't exist, I'm sure.  
> I probably owe her my soul AND my firstborn.  
> So thank you, really, for everything.
> 
> And to you, my dear reader, thank you.  
> I hope you liked it.


End file.
